


Three Times Everyone Else is Aware that Geralt is in Love with Jaskier and the One Time Geralt Gets the Memo

by The_Oversharing_Skeptic



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Oversharing_Skeptic/pseuds/The_Oversharing_Skeptic
Summary: Pretty much the title says it all
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Mentions of past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 15
Kudos: 622





	Three Times Everyone Else is Aware that Geralt is in Love with Jaskier and the One Time Geralt Gets the Memo

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

1\. Queen Calanthe

The Lioness had to admit to herself that, circumstances being what they were, she was enjoying her banquet. She knew the fun and revelry wouldn’t last for too long, but she would enjoy it while she could. Besides, having a Witcher as company was certainly something she had not been expecting and it was proving to be more and more interesting as the night wore on. That same Witcher was currently brooding next to her, not enamored at all with her charms.

It was refreshing, if she was being honest with herself.

“Tell me Witcher, how did someone such as yourself come into a friendship with a _bard_ of all people?” she asked, taking a sip from her goblet. Geralt was staring at the bard in question, watching the man as he sung his ballads with energy and just a hint of sweat.

“He followed me and just,” Geralt hesitated, “kept going.” The Queen almost choked on her wine. She composed herself before speaking.

“He followed you around and you just…accepted it?” she asked, mirth in her voice. Geralt looked uncomfortable and now refused to look anywhere but the bard.

“He has his uses,” the Witcher said in a tone that left absolutely no doubt to _anyone_ that he had only said that to say something.

“Ah yes,” the Queen replied,“ I can see. When a monster needs to be sung at, a bard does come in handy.”

Geralt now ignored her as much as was polite. He gave a stiff “hmmm” as a response and the Queen decided she wouldn't bother him further.

Really, she thought, for someone so capable he really is quite the idiot.

2\. The Sorceress

The Sorceress made a habit of visiting Jaskier.

They had both been hurt by Geralt and they found comfort in each-others presence. She hated to admit it, but she found herself calling the bard a friend more often than an annoyance.

“And what are you up to these days, oh mighty sorceress?” Jaskier asked as they shared a flagon of ale at the inn Jaskier was staying in. Yennefer raised an amused brow.

“Dearest bard, you jest but for all you know I _am_ the most powerful sorceress in all the land,” she responded, putting on airs.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Jaskier said. If Yennefer didn’t know any better, she might have heard respect in the tone he used.

“I am currently traveling the Continent,” she replied, “primarily doing research on Chaos.” Jaskier nodded, impressed. He didn’t immediately deign a reply, instead taking a sip of his ale. He looked down at the table before finding the courage to ask what Yennefer could sense was on his mind.

"Have you…have you spoken to him?” he asked, both knowing Yennefer knew exactly who he meant by 'him'. Yennefer shook her head.

“No, I’m giving him time to,” she waved her hand “learn from his mistakes. Eventually I’ll have a go at him and tell him exactly how I feel about the whole situation but until then I’m going to spend time on my adventures.”

Jaskier nodded and chewed his lip in contemplation. Yennefer rolled her violet eyes.

“Just spit it out Jaskier, you’ve never been one to keep an opinion quietly hidden. Or hidden, as a matter of fact.”

“If it’s not too much trouble-”

“ _Dandelion-_ ”

“ _Yennefer_! You know how much I _hate_ that name-"

" _Yes bard_ , if I see him, I will let you know how he is doing,” she finished and Jaskier looked annoyed.

“You read my mind again! You know I hate it when you do that!” Jaskier said crossing his arms and looking away from her.

“Then don’t think so loudly next time!” she responded.

Jaskier threw her the most offended look he could muster and drank from his cup. Yennefer grinned.

*

“I will have you know,” Yennefer said as she walked through a portal into Geralt’s camp, not bothering with niceties, “that I am _not_ here because I _want_ to be here but because we have a mutual friend who I seem to care about more than you do.”

“Hello Yen, it’s nice to see you,” Geralt said, sitting back down on the log he had jumped up from. His hair was wild and he had the look of someone who had been sleeping on hard earth for too long. Yennefer wold have felt sympathy if she wasn't still angry at him. 

“I would say the same thing but circumstances being what they are- I can’t.”

Geralt nodded, "I understand.”

"Do you?" she replied.

They stood in awkward silence. Yennefer sighed.

“Geralt, I’m going to be civil and say that what we had was wonderful, but I will never be able to know if it was real or not. And I can’t live that way - I cannot love you knowing that it could be influenced by magic- no,” Yennefer said, when she saw Geralt attempt to interrupt, “ _listen_. I know you love me and I know I love you. But I can’t help but wonder if its foundations are solid.”

Geralt looked at her with his cat-like eyes, seeing everything and seeing, Yennefer knew, the pain she carried.

“I really do love you Yen” he said.

“I know,” she replied, and they fell into silence again. Yennefer decided to sit next to Geralt and stare out into the forest. It was a bit windy out; the sound of moving branches filled the air and in the distance crunching leaves could be heard. Yennefer could understand where someone could find peace here.

“You said,” Geralt said after a few moments, “that you weren’t here for yourself."

"I wasn’t.”

“Then…is it…”

Yennefer turned to look at him. Geralt wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the forest but not seeing it, lost in his thoughts.

“Jaskier is upset at you but he also misses you,” she said. Perhaps it was the way Geralt’s eyes widened at the mention of Jaskier’s name, or the way his breathe, so inhumanely slow, hitched, but in that moment she understood something…something she would have to consider.

“Is he…is he- how is he?” Geralt asked. He looked down at the ground and picked up a mortar and pestle from beside the trunk and started grinding an herbal concoction. Whatever Yennefer had noticed began to become increasingly clearer as she watched the Witcher pointedly look at what was becoming unusable mush.

“He’s doing well,” she said slowly, “but he did ask for you.”

“Hmm” Geralt replied.

“Always one for grand words, aren’t you?” Yennefer said, quirking an eyebrow. Geralt stopped occupying his hands and threw the tools to the side. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Yennefer understood the deep seeded guilt he felt, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

 _You foolish man_ , Yennefer thought, _you’re in love with him and you won’t admit it to yourself._ She understood him, though, knowing that Geralt struggled with the love he felt for Yennefer and that he was probably struggling with the love he felt for his friend. Even so, she could no longer play counselor to his emotions; this conversation was taxing enough on her own emotions. 

Yennefer stood up.

“I’ll let him know you’re doing well,” she said, opening a new portal and stepping through it.

3\. The Bard

Jaskier decided to take a leaf from Yennefer’s book and go on a few adventures of his own.

His heart had always called to the sea, so he decided to heed it’s call and head to the coast. Along the way he sang old songs and new, collecting coin and ignoring the feelings that stirred in his heart every time he sang his Witcher staples. He rented a room at an inn that sat right on the beach and wandered the beaches sands early each morning. The sea water ran cool against his feet as he walked the wet surfaces of the shore, collecting sea shells, singing to himself. Never one for too much quiet he always brought along his lute, in the event that inspiration struck him (which it always did).

The sea made him think of love gained and love lost.

The white foam of the of crashing waves reminded him of white hair and the sun, orange and shy as it presented itself at dawn, reminded him of yellow eyes as its light played among the ocean waves. It had been months since he had spoken to Yennefer, almost a year since The Incident, and only a few days since he settled on this paradise and yet…and yet…he hadn’t been surprised when he saw the Witcher walking towards him, on the very beach where he had tried to find peace.

A part of Jaskier knew that he should walk the other way, make his approach difficult, make the Witcher follow the Bard to the farthest town and only give Geralt silence on their way there. But another part, a part that he had kept within himself, whispered the words he knew well.

_You love him and, despite it all, you’re happy to see him._

It was true.

Instead of going about with his pettier plans, Jaskier decided to sit on the sand and place his lute next to him. It didn’t take long for the Witcher to approach him. The Witcher didn’t speak, which wasn’t news to Jaskier, but his romantic and upset mind may have imagined some declaration of love and perhaps…just a little bit of groveling. He would have liked some groveling.

“I take it you’re not here to enjoy the view?” Jaskier asked, looking at Geralt.

Geralt was looking at him, concern and sadness written all over his face. It would have been noteworthy if Jaskier hadn’t been so upset.

“Jaskier…you must know…I didn’t mean what I said.”

“And yet you said it,” Jaskier replied, giving a shrug.

“I did,” Geralt said, leaning closer with beseeching eyes, “and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

Jaskier took in a shaky breath. He wanted to hate Geralt. He wanted to punch him in the chest and yell at him. He wanted to cry and tell him he loved him _damnit_ _couldn't he see that_ and throw sand at his perfect face. He wanted to grab his shoulders and kiss him. Jaskier wanted so much but he settled for something else. He decided he would use his words instead.

“I’m still angry at you Geralt, I followed you across the continent, at first yes for the glory of writing and singing about your feats but also because I truly felt we were friends. I cared deeply for you, would have risked my life for you, wanted to be there for you-”

“I know,” Geralt said, looking ashamed. 

“And you…said what you said," Jaskier finished. 

“I know...and you didn't deserve that,” Geralt replied. 

Jaskier nodded and stared off into the sea. He leaned against Geralt and gently nudged him. It wasn’t much but Jaskier knew that the Witcher understood. He needed time but they would be alright.

*

Jaskier had enough of the coast and decided it was high time to leave the inn and grace others with his voice. He was surprised when Geralt followed after him.

“There will contracts in those towns,” Geralt said, and who could blame Jaskier when he smiled at him. Geralt was following him, letting him take the lead.

Jaskier’s heart may have leapt at the prospect.

*

Something had changed after the apology. Jaskier caught Geralt, more than once, looking at him with a strange expression on his face. When they journeyed for long hours and nights, Geralt would let the bard ride Roach when he saw how tired Jaskier looked. When they stayed at inns, Jaskier would ask for rooms and Geralt would surprise him with a hot bath (if he had coin) or a pint of ale (when he didn’t).

Jaskier didn’t dare bring it up, for fear of breaking the spell.

He knew the Witcher had trouble voicing his feelings and he knew that Geralt and Yen had a history that could not be easily ignored. Yet a damned part of his heart still hoped, still wondered, if perhaps those touches ran deeper, looks betrayed something stronger, those unspoken words revealed something that Jaskier dared not admit to wanting.

*

Yennefer decided to pay them a visit. Geralt was out hunting a basilisk that had been devouring unsuspecting travelers. Jaskier was sitting by the campfire, composing what he was very positive would be his next greatest hit when he almost died at the sight of a portal opening and a sorceress stepping through it. Once he composed himself and Roach, who was significantly closer to the magic portal, he gave Yennefer a scathing look.

“Honestly Yennefer, are you trying to kill me?” he asked, with no real vitriol. He gave her a peck on the cheek and she smirked.

“I see you’re doing very well for yourself,” she said, taking a glance around the campsite.

“Yenna,” Jaskier started, “I’m not - we’re not-”

“Jaskier listen hard and listen well, I have absolutely no interest in pursuing anything with Geralt. The love I feel for him is my concern and mine alone,” she said, in a strict voice.

“Besides,” she continued, “I want you to be happy and I want him to be happy,” she said with a knowing look.

“You keep saying things like this, Yenna, and I’m almost starting to believe you.”

“You should, he’s an _idiot_ but he does love you, you know.”

Jaskier passed off his discomfort with a wave of his hand. He tried not to hope but failed miserably. Hearing the words from Yennefer’s mouth made his feelings too real as well as his hopes.

“We’ll see Yen, we’ll see”

*

Hours later Yennefer left and not long after Geralt emerged from the woods, covered in blood and carrying the head of a decapitated basalisk. When he saw Jaskier his entire body changed; his stiff shoulders relaxed and his face, hardened and bloody, smoothed while his lips gave the barest hints of a smile. Jaskier had been willing to believe anything except Yennefer’s words. Yet now, looking at the small transformation that was Geralt seeing Jaskier, the bard allowed one stray hopeful thought to enter his mind.

Maybe, just maybe, Yennefer was on to something.

+1 The Witcher

Jaskier had injured himself during Geralt’s last contract and Geralt was still more than a little upset about it.

“Honestly, Geralt, it’s really not that bad. It’s a sprained ankle, it could have happened anywhere by simply losing my footing on a stray branch,” Jaskier said, sitting on Roach at Geralt’s behest. Geralt didn’t say a word.

“Besides,” continued the bard, "if I recall correctly - if I hadn’t appeared then you would’ve been left to the wolves, which _coincidentally_ , were the things I was running from when I went looking for you,“ he said, with an air that suggested that he was justified in his actions.

Geralt turned to look at him.

"Jaskier,” he said, frustrated, “I don’t care. I can handle myself; I can take potions and survive extreme circumstances. But you’re-“

“ _Human_ , I know,”

“ _Yes_ ,” Geralt said, annoyed, “and if anything were to happen to you because of me…”

Jaskier sighed and got off of Roach, gasping a bit at the pain in his ankle and holding on to Geralt for support. He looked the Witcher straight in the eyes and shook his head.

“Geralt…” he said, “I understand, but know that the feeling is reciprocated. If anything were to happen to you,” he continued seriously, “I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

The silence that fell was heavy between them.

Jaskier chuckled,“Besides - Roach would be devastated.”

Jaskier brought his hand up to cup Geralt’s face and rubbed his thumb along Geralt’s cheek. Geralt caught his breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of the bard’s hands, and the reverence that spoke volumes in those beautiful blue eyes. A sensation stirred in his chest. So often he had denied himself the thought that maybe, maybe he felt more for the bard than he let off. The thought of Jaskier liking him, possibly loving him, was so foreign and so hard to grasp that Geralt refused to believe in it - not even hope for it. But now, looking at Jaskier’s face and feeling the loving touch of his hand on Geralt’s cheek - Geralt could no longer deny the feelings he had so often repressed.

“Jaskier,” he whispered, feeling too much in that moment.

“Hmm? Yes Geralt?” Jaskier said, looking at him with a soft, relaxed expression in his eyes. It was all too much.

Geralt closed the distance between them. The kiss was chaste, gentle, testing the boundaries. Jaskier gave a shocked gasp that made Geralt stagger backwards, worried that he had gone too far, but then the hand that was on his cheek quickly moved to the back of his head and pushed him forward, against the bard's lips. What began as soft and teasing, became rough and sinful immediately. Jaskier pressed himself against Geralt’s body and Geralt bucked at the action.

“Jaskier,” he repeated, mouth grinning against the bard’s lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years,” Jaskier said, nipping at the Witcher's bottom lip. Geralt growled and captured his lips once more, taming himself when he realized he needed to do one thing before continuing.

“Jaskier, I need you to know that I-”

“I know,” Jaskier said, exasperated and smiling.

Geralt shook his head.

“No, you need to hear it,” he took a deep breath, “expressing myself is…difficult. But I need you to know that I…I love you,” he finished, looking at the bard expectantly.

Jaskier blushed and shook his head.

“Silly Witcher,” he said, smile bright as the sun, “I love and adore you.”

Geralt kissed him again and admitted to himself that, though it had taken him a while, it was worth it to feel those soft lips against his own and see those bright eyes shine with happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited a few mistakes here and there.


End file.
